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A while back, we invited listeners to send us a short story or a poem about their homes for a feature called "Stories from Home." We're resurrecting this feature, but we're calling it "First Person" a place for you to give us your stories, poems, or short fiction. So far it's been a resounding success with entries from all over the country—and beyond. Frankly, we're a bit overwhelmed. Be patient with us as we continue to post the best of the bunch.  Keep Pace with the Earth By Rick Conner (08/28/08) I grew up in a house behind the county jail. Whistles and bells—in sync with the rising, arc, and setting of the sun— measured the convicts? coming and going, and punctuated our day as well. I watched their activities change with the season. The jailbirds planted their garden in spring, according to the moon. The summer months were full of cheering and jeers heard over the clang of horseshoes played after lunch in the cool shade of Dutch Elms. In the early dark of autumn we crawled under the bobbed-wire fence to steal jail-house pumpkins. The winter was cold and silent, except when it snowed. The snowball fights were wicked.... Read more...  A Darling Child. for O & A. By Jane Robertson (08/28/08) What has happened to the World? She squeals, "My all time favorite movie is "GI Jane"! Oh my God!, I Love that movie!" Squeal. Squeal. Sigh... Another one, with Black Paint for fingernails, has four piercings in his head and, with pride, tells me there are More. I decline his offer to let me know Where. He is Porcelain. With Robin-Egg Eyes. An Angel Waif with downy Red Fluff for hair. Now boldly murdered with a streak of Deep Purple hanging like a Curtain over one eye. His skin is pure and pale. Like all Red Heads. Like my father's. Like my son's. He was someone's Sweet Baby once. Bathed and combed. Rocked with simple Love Lullabies. A Darling Child who ran Wild across the Green Grass Hair Waving in the Wind. Run Wild and Innocent while you Can. The World too soon will make you Sad. Read more... | | | |
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